


look at me, right in front of you

by noyabeans (snowdrops)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Arguing, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen Work, Heart-to-Heart, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Missing Scene, Season 3 Spoilers, Shippy Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/noyabeans
Summary: The distance between the dormitories and the gym takes a grand total of fifteen minutes to cover on foot. It is a familiar path, one that Taichi and Kenjirou have walked down together countless times.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You see, you're only looking at what you've lost,  
>  Yet have you counted what you've been given?  
>  \- [WOODEN DOLL](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QA_p90T6oy4)

The distance between the dormitories and the gym takes a grand total of fifteen minutes to cover on foot.

It is a familiar path, one that Taichi and Kenjirou have walked down together countless times, whether early in the morning, Kenjirou still grouchy from being woken up by Taichi’s incessant knocking on the door (never mind that Washijou-sensei will be the grouchy one if Kenjirou were to be late), or late in the evening, the sky embellished with tiny specks of light that neither of them pay much attention to, their arms and legs sore and aching, hair still damp from the post-practice shower. The only consistency across all their walks is the companionable silence that never fails to fall between them.

Today is different - the silence between them is heavy and thick, a thrumming disquiet that is tense, like a rubber band on the verge of snapping. They are five minutes away from Kenjirou’s block when Taichi stops walking.

“What is it?” Kenjirou asks, tone clipped.

“Come here for a moment,” Taichi says, spreading his arms wide as if for an embrace.

Kenjirou frowns and makes a face that is borderline disgusted. “Why are you going all sentimental on me?”

“I’m not,” Taichi huffs, dropping his arms and walking away from the direction of Kenjirou’s block, towards the veranda at the back of the dormitory blocks. The evening sun is casting dappled shadows on the wooden bench when he sits down. Kenjirou follows close behind, biting his lips.

It has been a long time since he saw the sun at this time of day, Taichi briefly muses, jolting himself out of his pause when Kenjirou settles down next to him, their knees knocking together as he does so. In the light of the setting sun, only half of Kenjirou’s face is illuminated; his fringe hides his eyes from view. Taichi makes to sweep it aside, but Kenjirou catches his wrist.

“Why are we here?” he asks, as if unsure as to why he’s just blindly followed Taichi to this deserted part of the school grounds.

Taichi turns to face him fully, removing his hand from Kenjirou’s grip to tilt the other’s chin up so their eyes meet. Kenjirou’s gaze is unwavering; he meets Taichi’s eyes with something not unlike defiance.

“Hit me,” Taichi murmurs, placing Kenjirou’s palm on his chest, letting him feel Taichi’s heart beating steadily underneath his skin.

“What?” Kenjirou stares at him, startled. The hostility in his glare gives way to confusion.

“Hit me. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Are you out of your mind? Why would hitting you make me feel better?”

“Because you’re upset,” Taichi says simply, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Kenjirou’s brows pull together immediately.

“I’m fine,” he retorts, like a petulant child. He kind of is, if Taichi were to be honest.

“Yeah, sure you are.” Taichi can barely suppress the instinctive eyeroll. Kenjirou can be so ridiculously stubborn when he puts his mind to it, but Taichi isn’t having any of that today.

“Just leave me alone,” Kenjirou snarls, and Taichi almost, _almost_ feels relieved that the Kenjirou he knows is still somewhere there, like a caged animal with hackles raised.

“Not happening,” he opts to say, returning Kenjirou’s furious glare with an even look. “Look, Kenjirou. If you want to cry, then cry. If you want to be angry, scream. Yell. Hit me. Do anything. But just don’t tell me you’re _okay_ , because you sure as hell are not.”

He can sense Kenjirou’s resolve weakening, the waver in his expression though his eyes remain steely. Cupping Kenjirou’s face, he pulls the other towards himself, and whispers: “Just let it out, Kenjirou. You’re allowed to cry. To be sad. To be mad. To be furious. Don’t hold it in, Kenjirou - _please_.”

His voice cracks on the plea, and there’s a hot burn pricking at the side of his eyes, but he squeezes them shut and takes a deep shuddering breath in preparation for what he wants to - _needs to_ \- say next.

“No matter what you think, you idiot, the loss was. Not. Your. Fault.” Kenjirou lets out a choked whimper into the space between their lips. “Don’t think so highly of yourself that you think you were playing against Karasuno alone.

“I was there. Ushijima-san was there. Reon-san was there. There were six of us on that court, and it’s all of our losses, you hear me?”

“But I - second set -” Kenjirou’s voice is barely a whisper now, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.

Some kind of inexplicable fury rises deep within Taichi’s chest. “What are you, some kind of hero? I never knew you to be so noble, Kenjirou -”

“We could have won the match in the first three sets!” Kenjirou shouts, shoving Taichi away with such vehemence that even Taichi is taken by surprise. “I _panicked_ during the second set, _I_ screwed up, how is that not my fault? We were _that_ close to winning, Taichi. We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t - _fuck_ -”

Taichi grabs him by the shoulders, resisting Kenjirou’s attempts to stand up and storm off. He can’t believe Kenjirou still doesn’t get what he’s saying: for someone as smart as he is, Kenjirou can be incredibly stupid at times, Taichi thinks.

“Listen to what I’m saying, you dickwit!” - Ah, an insult comparable to Kenjirou’s usual. Childish and nonsensical. He probably isn’t thinking as clearly as he usually does. “You’re not a fucking hero, Kenjirou. You’re not perfect, _you’re allowed to make mistakes_!”

Taichi’s sure he’s shouting now, his voice raising with every word that leaves his mouth. But then all the anger dissipates suddenly, and he drops his head to Kenjirou’s shoulder. “Fuck, Kenjirou, all of us made mistakes out there, stupid. Karasuno just made fewer than us.”

He lifts his head to look Kenjirou in the eye. Kenjirou’s avoiding his gaze, hands clenched against the bench. “Stop - just _stop_ , Kenjirou. Stop carrying everything on your own damn shoulders. I can’t bear to see you like this, you’re not a martyr, no matter what you think. Don’t act as if you’re one.”

Kenjirou moves as though to speak, but the only sound that escapes is a broken gasp, and he buries his face into Taichi’s shirt, and he wails. The sound rends at Taichi’s heart, and he lets himself cry too. He cries - for Ushijima, for Reon, for Semi, for Tendou, for Yamagata - for their seniors who hadn’t expected today to be their last high school game. He cries, for Shirabu - for his stupid, stupid teammate that he loves so damn much.

But most of all, Taichi just cries, and lets Kenjirou cry too.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [WOODEN DOLL](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QA_p90T6oy4) by Kenshi Yonezu. Story was also partially inspired by WOODEN DOLL's [lyrics](http://vgperson.com/lyrics.php?song=woodendoll).
> 
> Here's my first contribution to the Kawashira tag!
> 
> Thank you for reading; a kudos or a comment would be great.
> 
> Scream with me about Kawashira here:  
> [tumblr (rielity)](https://rielity.tumblr.com/) | [twitter (noyabeans)](https://twitter.com/noyabeans)


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